


You Can't Do That in Georgia!!!

by YellowWallpaper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Highonmarvel, M/M, Wincest - Freeform, and my partner, finger licking good, i guess you could say it's, seductive eating of chicken, talk of a threesome, that would never ever happen, that's really about it, wincestwritingchallenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-29
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-04-14 08:43:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14132394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellowWallpaper/pseuds/YellowWallpaper
Summary: This was written for the Wincest Writing Challenge for the month of March.  The theme was nonsense laws and my specific prompt was "Georgia:  Can't eat fried chicken with utensils."





	You Can't Do That in Georgia!!!

“You sure you don’t want the special too sweetie? We got the best fried chicken in the state!” The waitress who took a great deal of pride in perfecting her contour and her upselling smiled proudly at Sam after he ordered his usual garden salad with dressing on the side.

“C’mon Sammy, you really gonna pass up the best fried chicken in the state?” Dean leaned back, only meaning to mock her in the slightest way.

“Uhh,” Sam laughed, his prepared apology at the ready.

“You can add a fried chicken breast to your salad for $4.50,” she offered, a last ditch effort to get one more fried chicken sale that night. Three more and she would get those movie tickets to the new theater opening next week.

“Is it the best fried chicken breast in the state?” Sam responded without a beat. Dean was taken aback at this brother’s boldness, his smile dropping slightly. Was Sam, his Sammy, flirting with the waitress? Sam usually only spoke like that to him.

“Of course it is hon!”

“Then I’ll have the salad with a fried chicken breast, thanks,” Sam smiled back and handed her his menu. He stretched out his legs as best he could in the booth and reclined, an unconscious mirror image of his brother. He took a sip of water before he realized said brother was glaring at him expectantly.

“What?” Sam asked.

Dean shrugged, motioning over to the absent waitress with a dramatic flourish. The realization came quickly to Sam, but he decided to play along.

“What?”

“Oh don’t what me. It should be me that’s whatting. What was that?” Dean snarked, his cool façade slipping.

“Whatting isn’t a word. And I still don’t follow,” Sam sipped his water again, a tiny smirk betraying his awareness to Dean.

“You flirt.” Dean said with a shake of his head and looked off towards the kitchen. Sam huffed.

“You’re jealous?”

“No,” Dean scoffed.

“You are so jealous. You’re jealous of Miss Makeup Tutorial YouTuber over there.”

“Of course not,” Dean scoffed again, moving his water glass closer to Sam, knowing he would need a refill sooner than the waitress expected. “Ten bucks says I could execute a better cat eye than her.”

Sam laughed in sarcastic agreement.

“So why is it you can flirt with girls but I can’t?”

“I flirt with girls when I’m working a case, when it could get us a lead, not laid. You know I never mean it.”

“Well I didn’t mean anything behind it, I wouldn’t be taking her home.”

“Unless she’s into brothers?” Dean lifted his eyebrows.

“Wait, are you now saying that you want to take her home?” Sam was blindsided by Dean’s abrupt change of heart.

“Now who’s jealous?” Dean smirked, taking a dainty sip of his water.

“Wha,” Sam trailed off, shaking his head at the pace and range of the conversation. “No, I’m not jealous. You just like messing with me.” Dean reclined back, luxuriating in his win.

“We love you when you’re mad,” he said softly in a sing songy voice.

“Well good for you because I’m furious,” Sam responded with the familiar retort. It had kind of become code for them. I love you Bitch. I love you too Jerk. The waitress walked past them with another table’s dinner and Sam made a point to not look at her. He met Dean’s eyes with an even gaze, Dean returning the look with just a quick glance at the waitress. They didn’t even need words.

_“Not gonna look?”_

__

__

_“Don’t need to.”_

The boys took a simultaneous sip of water. Miss Killer Brows refilled their glasses with a promise to check on their dinners. They both sat in silence as the diner around them kept on with business. A group of teenagers sat in the corner booth, laughing over milkshakes and fries. Neither brother looked again at the trucker seated at the counter that needed to pull up his pants and Dean started nodding his head along to the jukebox.

“Here ya are! Enjoy!” the waitress returned with two plates, “And remember…” she paused to get their attention, “It’s illegal in the state of Georgia to eat fried chicken with a knife and fork!” Dean glanced down at the flatware next to his plate. He looked back up at the waitress, as if to ask if she was serious. She simply nodded her head towards him, perfect eyebrow raised, and left them to their meal. As he almost expected, he looked over to see Sam typing into his phone. While still reading, Sam reached over and grabbed Dean’s silverware from his side of the table.

“It is illegal in the state of Georgia to eat fried chicken with utensils,” Sam shrugged.

“What about my mashed potatoes? And the coleslaw? And you know I’m getting pie after this.”

“And when you eat those you’ll get these back. But until then…” Sam displayed his jazz hands before grabbing his own fork to dig into his salad. Dean resigned with a frown and picked up the drumstick.

The fried coating was perfect. It had just the right amount of grease, and not too salty. The texture was perfectly crisp but did not fall off in one piece onto his plate. Dean hummed his pleasure as he picked up a tiny piece of breading that had fallen off the end of the drummy. He popped it in his mouth and stuck his thumb in his mouth as well to lick off the grease that had been left there. He had assumed the waitress was exaggerating with her claim of their chicken being the best in the state, but now he was starting to believe her. Not that Dean would consider himself a connoisseur of fried chicken, but he did appreciate good food and this was good food. He bit into the juicy meat again, this time noticing Sam watching him. Sam’s own bite of a cherry tomato had only made it half way up to him mouth before it had paused. Dean chewed on the chicken a little longer as he watched Sam watching him. He darted his tongue out to lick off some of the drippings that had been left on his tongue and started licking his fingers off again. Dean sucked hard on his fingertip, knowing his lips were getting that shade of pink that made Sam crazy for his mouth. Sam looked away quickly, stuffing his mouth with the tomato and stabbing a cucumber with a bit more force than necessary.

“Oh Sammy,” Dean breathed. Sam nearly jumped in his seat at the tone his brother’s words were taking. “This is sooo good!” Dean put another couple digits into his mouth, closing his eyes as he sucked the salty grease off of the now tender flesh. 

“Jesus Dean,” Sam muttered as he picked up a piece of chicken with his fork.

“Ah ah ah ah ah!” Dean said through a mouthful of food and a finger in Sam’s face. “You eat that and I’m calling the cops.” Sam looked at the morsel. Technically it was fried chicken. But from what he read of the law, it was more than likely meant for people eating chicken legs or thighs with a knife and fork, but not a piece of chicken breast. How else would one eat a fried chicken breast? And in a salad no less?

“Laws are laws Sammy,” Dean cleaned off the leg bone with another bite and then picked up the thigh piece. Sam pulled the meat off his fork with his thumb and forefinger and sat the fork down next to his plate. He glanced at Dean before making a show of sopping up some more honey mustard dressing and popping it in his mouth. The flavor hit him in a way he wasn’t expecting.

“Oh fuck that’s good.”

“Right?”

Sam was determined to give Dean as good of a show as he just got, the both of them looking into each other’s eyes as they licked their fingers clean. Dean was almost considering ordering another plate to go, when they noticed the waitress standing at their table. They both looked up at her, fingers wet with saliva, mouths full of food. Even the teenagers had stopped most of their conversation and were watching them.

“So, how were those first few bites?”

**Author's Note:**

> Kay, but now I'm really craving fried chicken....


End file.
